Return To Duty
by AstraPerAspera
Summary: What do we want? More Stargate! When do we want it? Now! As part of a campaign to encourage MGM to revive Stargate with a new series that builds on the existing canon of SG-1, SGA and SGU, former Stargate showrunner Joe Mallozzi sketched out a rough concept for a new show, mentioning "General Carter" as being in command of the SGC. Needless to say, that was all it took.(S/J alert!)
1. Chapter 1

**Return To Duty**

By

AstraPerAspera

 _Author's Note: I completely blame Joe Mallozzi for this story. He had me at "General Carter"._

"…and I know we can accomplish some great things together. Thank you."

Her words hung momentarily in the empty air as Sam made a concerted effort not to let out a sigh of relief. Speeches were not her forte, no matter how many times she had to give them. She'd felt pretty good about this one, though, despite the lack of reaction from her audience. It was her first day, after all. Pretty par for the course.

"Dismissed!"

The Major's command was so sharp, Sam, who was standing next to her, nearly jumped. Everyone else seemed unfazed, however, and with a sort of loose precision, the SG teams turned and began filing out of the gateroom. Sam watched them leave, trying not to notice the sidelong glances some of them were giving her. They looked so young. Kids, really. Had she really been their age when she'd first stepped off the elevator onto Level 28 and stared breathlessly at the Stargate for the first time? She hadn't thought so then, but looking back now—was it really twenty years?—she had probably seemed as green to General Hammond as these kids seemed to her.

"Will there be anything else, General?"

Her rather gung-ho and newly assigned aide, Major Conklin, stood rigidly in front of her. Right. First thing at the top of her list: make it clear that while she appreciated a clear chain of command and a well-run base, she was anything but a spit-and-polish CO. Standing at attention had its place, but she hoped this was the last time she'd see her people feel the need to do that in her presence. She'd managed to achieve just the right balance of familiarity and formality in Atlantis and on the Hammond. No one, she liked to think, had ever been hesitant to approach her, from her XO to the noncom in the mess. Hopefully, with time, she'd bring that same sort of balance back to the SGC. Eyeing Major Conklin's eyes-front, rod-for-a-spine posture, perhaps the sooner the better.

"Thank you, Major, but I'm good for now." When the woman didn't move she added, "You may return to your duties."

"Yes, Ma'am."

For a moment Sam thought Conklin was going to salute, but instead she swiveled on her heels and strode out the door behind the last airman.

Right. This might take more work than she'd thought.

"Nice speech."

She hadn't noticed him come in. He must have slipped through the door behind her while her attention was elsewhere. But he'd obviously been there the whole time. He grinned at her now, leaning casually against the wall, dressed in his most comfortable civilian clothes. She almost envied him.

Almost.

"Someone once told me to keep it short and sweet," she replied, walking over to him. "I learned from the best."

"Hammond was the best," Jack replied, all trace of joking gone. She nodded.

"He was. And so were you."

Jack shrugged off the compliment. "A CO is sometimes only as good as the people around him—or her." His eyes drifted over to the door where Conklin had just exited. "Speaking of which—"

Sam looked over her shoulder at the same spot and sighed. "Yeah. That's going to be a challenge." Getting the SGC back on track was going to be an even greater one. Since General Landry's retirement, a series of interim Commanding Officers had rotated through the base as the Pentagon struggled to redefine the program's purpose. Before his retirement from Homeworld Security, Jack himself had made an impassioned plea to return the program to its roots: scientific and cultural exploration, for the purpose of acquiring new technology and creating intergalactic goodwill. With the Lucian Alliance finally out of the picture, he'd argued (with a little help from Daniel), the thing Earth needed most was a little diplomacy and a whole bunch of that goodwill. Closing off the gate wasn't an option. Isolationism never worked on a global level; on an intergalactic one, it would be disastrous.

For once, the Pentagon had listened. They'd had only one condition.

It had been worth giving up the Hammond for.

"So—wanna get something to eat?" he asked, brightly, interrupting her ruminations.

"Jack—it's only 9 am. We just had breakfast three hours ago."

"Hey—you might call that kale and yogurt thing food, but I prefer to eat my breakfast with a knife and fork—not slurp it through a straw."

Sam tried not to roll her eyes. He was hopeless. Completely hopeless.

"You know I have work to do. And our meeting with the IOA isn't until eleven." She couldn't imagine what could possibly keep him occupied for the next two hours, unless he intended to just hang out in her office. Not that she'd mind—well, actually, yes, she would.

He cleared his throat. "Well, now that you mention it—"

Her eyes narrowed. He was, she realized, looking a little like the cat who'd swallowed the canary.

There was a familiar clang of a locking chevron as the Stargate came to life. One by one the symbols lit up. As far as she knew, there were no teams off-world. She glanced with concern at Jack, but he didn't seem a bit surprised by the sudden activation of the gate. Now she really was suspicious.

The wormhole burst to life, bathing the room with its familiar blue, rippling light. It had been a long time since she'd see that happen. The same old thrill of excitement ran through her, almost as intense as the first time she'd stood at the event horizon, waiting to go through to Abydos.

But this was an incoming wormhole, from who knew where. She looked up at the control room and signaled for them to close the iris.

As the titanium spiraled toward the center, she looked at Jack again. "You know who it is, don't you?"

He merely smiled and shrugged.

What was he up to?

Over the intercom, the tech in the control room announced: "We have an incoming signal, General Carter. It's Teal'c."

Jack's smug look told her everything. She wondered how long he'd been planning this.

"Open the iris," she commed back to the tech. With the scissoring sound she still sometimes heard in her dreams, the iris vanished and a moment later, Teal'c was standing on the ramp, gazing around the room until he spotted her and Jack off to the side.

"You planned this?" she said to Jack as they went to meet Teal'c. He shrugged again.

"He was just in the neighborhood—weren't you, T?"

Teal'c hugged Sam. It had been months since she'd seen him—could it possibly even have been a year? Time seemed to fly by so quickly the older she got. Her dad used to tell her the same thing, but she hadn't really understood, until now.

Teal'c was mostly unchanged. A little thicker. A little grayer—but then weren't they all?

"It is good to see you, General Carter." His voice was warm, matching the smile that she saw in his eyes. "You are to be congratulated on assuming command of the SGC. I can think of no one more suited to take up the mantel of leadership of this place than you." He closed his eyes and bowed slightly.

"Thanks, Teal'c." She didn't dare look at Jack now. She'd wanted a less formal atmosphere around the base, to be sure, but it probably wasn't a good idea to let her command see her tearing up on her first day, even if they were tears of happiness.

Teal'c clasped Jack by the arm. "O'Neill, my friend. It is good to see you again as well." He sized Jack up. "Retirement appears to be agreeable to you."

"Yes. Well, I certainly can't complain—although I do my best to try." He winked at Sam.

"I hope you're able to stay for a while, Teal'c." As delighted as she was to see him, she really did have to get some work done. The revamped IOC was still as political as ever. Jack had the luxury of being able to fly by the seat of his pants with them. She did not. She needed to be prepared as much as possible for that eleven o'clock meeting. "We're just getting settled in the new house, but we have a couple of guestrooms—we'd love to have you stay."

"Actually—" Jack was looking mischievous again. "We only have one spare room at the moment—but it has your name on it, Teal'c—well, not literally, of course."

"Jack, what are you-?" But before she could finish, behind her, the door to the gateroom slid open. Jack looked past her and grinned again. She almost knew before she even turned around.

"Sorry I'm late—they held me up at the security desk. Did you know they let twelve-year-olds be airmen, these days?"

Daniel.

"Hey, Sam!" He was clipping his VIP security badge to his jacket pocket. "Teal'c!" He beamed at both of them.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Jack asked, archly.

"What? I just saw you an hour ago when you let me into your house."

That explained the second guestroom. Either she was going to kill Jack for doing this or find some way to let him know how much it meant to her. Quite possibly both.

Sam went to hug Daniel. It hadn't been quite as long as Teal'c, but it had still been a while. It was only just hitting her how much she missed these guys in her daily life.

"I can't believe you both came." She nailed Jack with a look. "Or that you were able to keep it a secret."

"Hey—I had top security clearance at the Pentagon. They don't just hand those out to anybody you know," he replied with feigned defensiveness.

"We couldn't miss your first day back at the SGC." Daniel beamed. "Your first day _in charge_ of the SGC," he amended. "It was Teal'c's idea, actually."

Teal'c seemed surprised by this.

"It was not!" Jack protested. "No offense, Big Guy."

Oh yes. She definitely missed this.

"It seemed an appropriate time to celebrate," Teal'c said. "Undomesticated equines could not have kept me away."

Okay. This was just not fair. So much for maintaining her composure. The gateroom was swimming as she reached out and grasped both Teal'c and Daniel by the hand.

"I don't know what to say, guys. Really."

"I do—let's eat!"

Leave it to Jack to break the moment. She was fairly sure he'd done it on purpose. She'd been dangerously close to losing it.

"I wish I could, guys, but—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You've got a base to run. I was talking to these guys, anyway." He rubbed his hands together. "So—bet you've both been missing some good old mess hall food, haven't you?"

Teal'c's face lost its smile, and Daniel grimaced.

"Yeah, thought so!" Jack replied, enthusiastically. "Come on. My treat."

"Jack—don't forget the IOA at eleven o'clock." Sam called as he started toward the other door.

"How can I?" he replied. "You put it on my damn phone."

"I'm sorry, but why are you going to a meeting with the IOA?" Daniel asked.

"I'm a consultant now!" Jack shoved his hands in his pocket and grinned broadly.

"You. A consultant."

Jack nodded. "Yup. That means I get to come in when there's really cool stuff going on and give them my two-cents worth, without having to be the one who worries about what happens after that."

"That would be my job." Sam pointed out.

Jack looked at her from across the room. They'd talked about this so many times after she'd been offered the position. They'd talked about where the SGC needed to go, how best to take it there, where its efforts needed to be directed, and how to deal with the various forces that still saw the Stargate program as a pawn in a larger game. But they'd never gotten around to talking about what it meant to accept the responsibility for not only the lives of the men and women in her command, but for the decisions that could potentially ripple throughout the galaxy—and beyond. Jack knew what that was like better than anyone. Now it was her turn to carry that burden.

"Yes. Yes it would," he said, all light-heartedness gone. His eyes held hers. In them, she saw his unwavering faith in her. But something else as well—sympathy. "And it's a job we should probably leave you to do."

Sam watched them leave, trying to ignore the slight pang of regret over not being able to join them. Surveying the gateroom one more time, her eyes rested on the great windows of the conference room, two levels up. That was her place now. Of course, her team would always be her team, ready to support her at a moment's notice. But for all their good intentions, only one person could sit at that desk. Good people had sat there in the past.

She would do her best not to let them down.

ooo


	2. Chapter 2

After Hours

"I know I should be used to it by now, but somehow it always takes me by surprise." Daniel passed Teal'c another bottle of Guinness as they sat around the firepit on Sam and Jack's patio. The four of them had spent the last three hours reminiscing. Laughing. Mourning. Remembering. So much accomplished. Too much lost. Extraordinary things gained. But he'd watched Sam fade as the evening went on. He couldn't blame her. Her first day as CO of Stargate Command was behind her, and, by her account, had gone fairly smoothly. But he could see the fatigue in her eyes and the way she slowly withdrew from the conversation, settling more deeply against Jack's shoulder as the darkness fell. When she'd nodded off and woke with a start, Jack suggested they call it night. Teal'c wasn't tired, though, and neither was Daniel, so the two of them remained by the crackling fire, watching Jack and Sam as they headed for bed.

"I believe O'Neill appears to be quite content, now that General Carter will no longer be in command of the Hammond," Teal'c replied, taking a pull from the bottle. "Although he would never reveal it to her, I know, for a fact, that he often feared for her safety."

"Yeah. Of all of us, she was the one who stuck it out the longest in harm's way."

"Indeed."

There was something in Teal'c's voice. Daniel studied him in the dancing light. The streak of gray that marked his fifty years aboard the Odyssey, had spread. Even after all this time, he refused to speak of what had happened to them aboard that ship. Daniel had stopped wondering about it years ago, but there was a sad undertone in Teal'c's response that, for reasons he couldn't explain, brought that incident back to mind. Fifty years was a long time for six people to share their peculiar form of solitary confinement. Was it possible that-? But no. That would have been as absurd as the notion of him and Vala getting together.

"Well, I'm happy for them. They both deserve this. They've earned the right to finally have a life together on the same planet, after everything they've done to save it, time and time again." Daniel glanced again at Teal'c. "Speaking of which—how are Rya'c and Kar'yn and the grandchildren?"

"They are well indeed." Teal'c's smile was a mixture of pride and contentment. "I cannot tell you how much joy it brings me to know my grandson and granddaughter need never require a prim'tah nor tretonin. They are the first of our family to be truly and completely free."

"After so much was lost—it's good to know that there are still some things that worked out."

"The Jaffa are not the people they once were, but perhaps those of Rya'c's generation will build a new Jaffa Nation that is freed from the hubris of so many of their fathers and grandfathers. I have great faith in their ability to be better than those of us who came before."

"As long as they remember that it was because of you and Bra'tac and others like you that they have that freedom. We have a saying that those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it."

Teal'c looked smug. "It is for that reason that I remain an advisor to the new High Council. I am their living history, and they do well to remember it."

Daniel hid a smile. He could envision Teal'c swatting down any of the younger Jaffa who might become a little too full of themselves. "You sound very much like Bra'tac," he said, instead.

Teal'c gave a nod. "I will take that as a compliment, Daniel Jackson."

The fire crackled and popped, sending a shower of sparks into the night air. They both stared at it for a while, saying nothing.

"What news have you of Vala MalDoran?" Teal'c said, out of nowhere.

Ah. Vala. "Well—" He heaved a heavy sigh. "After she tried running that internet scam out of the SGC—"

Teal'c looked surprised.

"You didn't hear about that? Oh yeah—it was pretty standard. Only instead of saying she was a Nigerian prince, she tried to pass herself off as an Egyptian Goddess…"

"Allow me to hazard a guess: Qetesh?"

"Yup. She raked in about twenty grand, mostly from old people. Anyway. They made her give it back, of course, but after the shop-lifting, and the whole incident with the Colorado Springs Fire Department Widows and Orphans Fund—"

Teal'c's eyes widened.

"Yeah—don't ask. Anyway. Landry'd had enough. He gave her a choice of destinations and sent her on her way. Last I heard, she was dealing in Goa'uld artifacts out of one of the planets formerly in the Lucian Alliance, and doing quite well for herself." He tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt whenever the topic of Vala came up. He'd failed at a few things in his life, there was no doubt. But his inability to turn Vala from her larcenous ways was one of his biggest regrets. The damage was too deep for too long for her to be able to really trust anyone but herself. For a while, he thought they'd made a difference—that she'd felt the safety of their friendship and the companionship of being on the team. But as that team had disbanded, so had her sense of security. He hadn't been able to take her with him when he went back with Atlantis—she would have been bored silly, anyway. Mitchell had tried to corral her as long as he could, but in the end, she'd fallen back into what she knew best. By going to Atlantis, Daniel felt as though he'd somehow let her down—abandoned her. In retrospect, maybe he should have brought her with him. But it was too late now.

"Colonel Mitchell, as I understand, has been given command of the General Hammond," Teal'c said after Daniel had lapsed into contemplative silence. "I am sure he will perform admirably."

Daniel had not heard that, but it made sense. He wondered whose recommendation had made that happen—Sam's or Jack's. Maybe both.

That brought his thoughts back around to the two of them, one more time. It was strange to think they'd been together as a couple longer than they'd worked together as a team. To be honest, he was never quite sure exactly how that all happened. One minute Sam had been set to marry that Pete Shanahan, and then, after Daniel came back from his second stint of ascension, suddenly she and Jack were together. Teal'c had been unclear as to the details too, although he hadn't been the least bit surprised. Daniel, on the other hand, was completely taken aback—although in retrospect, he guessed he shouldn't have been. Sometimes the things that were right under your nose were the most difficult to see.

"Do you ever miss it, Teal'c? SG-1? The way we used to be?"

Teal'c stared into the fire, clearly turning over the question in his mind.

"That time is always a part of me, Daniel Jackson," he said at last. "I am who I am because of it, and I would not surrender that period nor the memory of it for anything."

Daniel could sense the coming caveat. "But-?" he prompted

Teal'c smiled, dipping his head in acknowledgement of Daniel's perceptiveness.

"I am no longer that individual who fought alongside of you and O'Neill and General Carter against the Goa'uld and the Ori. And neither are you, Daniel Jackson. I am grateful that I was who I needed to be at the time, but I would not be that man again, given the choice. And I suspect neither would you."

"No. No I would not." How naïve he'd been back then. His grief for Sha're—his guilt—had driven so much of what he'd done. He'd had no real concept of either the overwhelming beauty of the universe nor the true depth of its brutal cruelty. The idealist he'd been seemed almost childlike in retrospect, as was the false sense of security he'd believed the righteousness of their cause afforded them. That had begun to fray the day Janet Frasier died in his arms until he'd finally accepted that it had been an illusion all along.

"I guess nostalgia always paints the past in brighter colors than it really was," he mused aloud, realizing that there had been a long period of silence in the wake of his last remark.

"Perhaps," Teal'c replied. "Or perhaps it is the radiance of the present which is merely being reflected back upon us."

Daniel smiled. "That's deep, Teal'c. Too deep for me, at this hour, I'm afraid."

Teal'c stood up. "Then I will bid you good night. Sleep well." He bowed slightly and started towards the house. When he reached the door, however, he paused and looked back.

"But know this, Daniel Jackson—although it is unlikely that we shall ever have cause to do so again, I can think of no greater honor than to once again stand shoulder to shoulder with you, O'Neill and General Carter on the field of battle. Of that, you must have no doubt."

Daniel met Teal'c's eyes across the glow of the dying fire. Maybe it was the flickering light, or the quavering of the heated air above the flames, but Teal'c's eyes looked damp and Daniel could have sworn he'd heard a slight catch in his voice.

"I miss it too, Teal'c."

Teal'c's nod was barely perceptible before he slipped through the doorway and vanished.

Daniel tilted his head back and stared at the stars overhead. As a child he'd had a difficult time grasping the concept that the light that made them visible had travelled for thousands and thousands of years. It was his grandfather who had finally explained that the night sky was filled with the light of the galaxy's history.

Which meant that somewhere, on more of those lights than he could count, or probably even see, SG-1's adventures were still yet to be. The light from the day they first stepped foot on Abydos and Chulak and Cimmeria and all those other planets wouldn't reach Earth until long after he and the others were gone. And as that light passed Earth and continued on throughout the rest of the universe, SG-1 would, in a sense, go on forever as well.

Their adventures would truly never end.

It was a strange thing to contemplate, but at the same time, Daniel found it brought him comfort.

Their past was, indeed, the universe's future.

Which had sort of been the point, all along.


End file.
